


Reconciliations and Other Things

by HiroMyStory



Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Light Angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 22:42:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17569307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HiroMyStory/pseuds/HiroMyStory
Summary: A collection of five little ficlets around the theme of reconciliation set in the post-reveal period with a shot of Trixie & Lucifer silliness at the end.





	1. No Eggsplanations Needed

**Author's Note:**

> These five ficlets were written in December 2018 and most were previously published on Tumblr. Enjoy!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe has a plan to make amends.

**No Eggsplanations Needed**

Chloe had visited Lucifer’s penthouse at least half-a-dozen times before she learned it even _had_ a kitchen. Off a little hallway tucked past the library. Later, she’d pawed through it, marveling at this or that exotic ingredient, when she and Linda had crashed the place on her 36th birthday. She hadn’t given it much thought since.

Today, though, it was where she was headed.

Chloe knew she had screwed up. Yes, she’d needed time to get her head together. But…she’d taken a lot. Fallen into an atypical avoidance. 

He had done as she asked and ‘given her space.’

Not once had she given him a heads-up about where she was with it all. Even after she was fairly sure she would be alright. It had taken Ella’s recounting a run-in with Lucifer—and all the transparently-oblique ways he’d asked after Chloe—to take Chloe out of her own head. She’d spent a sleepless night thinking about how all this time looked from his perspective.

Yeah, she’d definitely screwed up.

So she hefted her bags and took the fire stairs—rather than the elevator—up to the penthouse. She’d come prepared to bump the lock if she needed. But, Lucifer being Lucifer, the door was open. Of course.

She tiptoed from the stairs into the kitchen. Luckily, they were both tucked to one end of the penthouse, far from the bedroom.

She wasn’t sure how well-stocked his kitchen would be on any given day, so she’d brought everything she needed, truffle oil and all. As silently as possible, she unloaded her bags and found the pans and knives and cutting boards.

Pretty soon the smell of cooking eggs and bacon wafted through the air.

She’d just rolled out the omelet, when a sharply-drawn breath had her turning. There he was in a silk robe with sleep-mussed hair. He was…just himself. Chloe smiled.

“Detective…” he breathed out. “What’s all this?”

“I made you breakfast.”

“I see that, but…” 

Oh, the guarded uncertainty written on his face. The dam broke.

“Lucifer, I’m so sorry I took so long. I-I know you, know who you are.” She took a step closer to him, raising her hand. She was afraid he would back away, skittish. When he didn’t, she laid the hand over his heart. “I’m sorry I lost track of that for a moment.”

“Does that mean…?” He seemed so confused. “What does that mean?” 

“It means: I want my partner back. And I hope he wants his back, too.”

“I was afraid,” he admitted quietly. “I was afraid we were…over.”

“I-I know. I didn’t mean that. It’s just each day that went by it seemed harder and harder, and I…I guess I was scared. Not of you,” she rushed to add, “but just of…how things might, I guess, be different. I…yeah.”

She waited for him to say something. To her great relief, a big smile broke across his face.

“Darling, no eggsplanations necessary.”

It wasn’t really true. Still, she said, “Cheeseball.”

He put his hand to his chest in feigned offense. “Moi?”

But he apparently wasn’t able to maintain his mock-serious face, and pretty quickly they were both grinning like idiots. They were going to be okay, Chloe decided.

Then he smirked with a familiar twinkle in his eyes.

“Is this the part where I drop my robe in surprise?” he asked, teasingly reaching for the silk belt.

She stopped his hand and gave his shoulder a playful shove, ignoring the flash of temptation. She shook her head with a rueful smile.

“No, now’s the part where we have breakfast.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just love the idea of Chloe breaking into Lucifer’s place to make an omelet!


	2. Take It Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe visits Lucifer with a question.

**Take It Back**

If he was surprised to see her, he didn’t show it. He leaned casually against the bar, gesturing to a seat across from him. “You have questions, I presume.”

She took in the empty club, hesitating. Ultimately, she did not take the offered seat and remained standing instead. 

“One more so than the others,” she admitted.

“Yes?” he prompted, when she didn’t ask immediately.

“Why are you here?”

“What…do you mean? Earth? L.A.? Lux?” He heaved a put-upon sigh. “I told you before, I got tired of playing the part my Father wrote for me. I quit. As for L.A., why not the City of Angels? It’s been a good fit, as has Lux.”

“No. Consulting with the LAPD,” she corrected. “In my life!” The last came out on a rising note she hadn’t intended.

He opened his mouth and then closed it. When he started again, it was softly: “Come, now, Detective, you were there for that part of the story.”

“Why don’t you tell me again anyway.”

“Well,” he began in a grating tone, “once upon a time the handsome devil’s friend was murdered outside his club. The clever homicide detective came to help solve the case, and the bored devil decided it would be fun to play cop. Besides, he enjoyed the clever detective’s company.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“Really? It was just ‘a thing to do'?”

“Believe it or not, that’s a perfectly good reason to do something.” There was a long pause before he added: “And perhaps, after all, I found working with you to be a bit more…fulfilling…than what I’d been doing before.”

“How do I know you don’t have, like, an ulterior motive?”

“What kind of ‘ulterior motive’ do you think I have?”

“I don’t know!”

“You must have something in mind if you asked that question.” His tone was flat. She’d wager he had guessed what was on her mind.

“Is it really the most believable thing that you were, what, at loose ends and you enjoy the company of a divorced homicide detective in her late thirties with a nine-year-old at home? That’s what the devil does when he leaves hell? Isn’t it reasonable to wonder if there is something else you are after?”

“Detective…” She could hear the disappointment in his voice. “You’ve been listening to too many stories that make me out to be the villain.”

“How do I _know_?” It was half a plea.

The disinterested mask was long gone, and he was staring at her with wide eyes. “Because you know me!”

“But isn’t that, according to all those same stories anyway, exactly the way the devil might deceive someone?”

The look he gave her…never had she wanted to take back a question so badly.


	3. Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chloe's mind working through a few things in her sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to use this to mark off 'devil face' on my LuciferBingo score card.

**Dreams**

Chloe had been having dreams ever since she’d finally been forced to face the truth about Lucifer.

The worst were true nightmares. Lucifer, looking like the red devil she’d seen in the loft. Trying to drag her—or, in truly the worst, Trixie—to Hell. She’d wake up with a racing heart and in a cold sweat.

In other dreams, he was her partner still. Sometimes smiling. Feet up on her desk, making some crack or another, or standing with his hands in his pocket and a shit-eating grin on his face. Other times he was sad. Leaning forward on her desk asking why there were no more cases.

Strangest of all, she still had sex dreams about him. Most of them weren’t any different than the kind she’d had _before_. Hot and furious. She’d wake up wanting and confused and finally slightly guilty.

But in the very strangest of the strange, she’d dreamed they weren’t just having sex but making love. He was over her and in her, touching her face and whispering endearments. Then he’d changed into the devil before her eyes. Yet she hadn't been scared in the dream. They’d continued making love just as before. She had awoken aching and still feeling a sweet languor until her head had caught up with her body and she felt a cold shiver.


	4. The Devil Who Saved (the Precinct) Christmas (Party)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lucifer hosts the precinct Christmas party; Chloe has thoughts and a fair bit of Champagne.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm checking off 'Lux' on LuciferBingo with this one.

**The Devil Who Saved (the Precinct) Christmas (Party)**

Lucifer had nearly the whole precinct at Lux on a Thursday night, because, basically, Ella had volunteered him. The annual holiday party (which Lucifer had never attended) had been slated to occur at the usual VFW hall. Until, that was, an unfortunate fire the night before. Something about drunk dentists and a paper mache Santa-and-sleigh.

Ella had run so far ahead on the idea of having the party at Lux that it just was easier to say yes. So he’d closed Lux for the private event.

The PPC (Party Planning Committee, he’d learned) had insisted on bringing all the food planned for the original party despite Lucifer’s offers to procure something more appropriate. Potluck and party platters set up on buffet tables on the main floor. Buffet tables! At Lux!

Additionally, the PPC had hung well-worn decorations here and there and everywhere. There was no rhyme or reason to it; absolutely no flow or aesthetic sensibility. It wasn’t like Lux wasn’t already decorated for the holidays. He couldn’t help notice that the shots of his dancers in their sexy Mr.-and-Mrs. Clause outfits had been covered with wrapping paper and bows by some busybody. 

All these indignities aside, the party was now in full swing and Lucifer's sometimes-colleagues seemed to be enjoying themselves. The part of him that reveled in such bacchanalia was pleased.

Chloe, Daniel, and Ella all arrived together. It was only then he realized he’d been watching the door with half-an-eye the entire time. Ella caught sight of him right away and waived enthusiastically before moving his way.

“Dude! This is fantastic,” she said, throwing her arms around him. “You really came through.”

“But of course.” He gestured around the club proudly, ignoring the buffet and shoddy decorations.

“The Devil who saved Christmas!” Ella snorted at her own joke.

“Now, now, my dear Ella…” he began, but just then Daniel joined them.

“Really great thing you’re doing here, man,” he said, clapping Lucifer on the arm. So much touching.

“Yes, yes,” Lucifer said. “Here, let’s get you all drinks, then.”

He looked up to see the Detective, but somehow she’d gotten stopped talking to some unis by the door. His smile fell for a moment, but he settled into the task of making sure Ella and Daniel were looked after.

He did his best to keep circulating around the room, mingling and playing gracious host. It was a good distraction. More than an hour later, he hadn’t gotten within ten feet of the Detective.

It had been stupid to think that tonight would be different than any other day for the past several months. She kept so much distance between them. Like she didn’t know how to be around him any longer. Which was, he considered, probably precisely the problem.

Daniel was at his side again. Worse, he seemed to have followed Lucifer’s gaze.

“Listen, man, you and Chloe need to figure out whatever this shit is you’ve got going on. Apologize. Make up. Whatever. She’s miserable.” Daniel looked Lucifer up and down. “ _You’re_ miserable.”

“I assure you there is _nothing_ left to ‘figure out’ that she hasn’t already. And there’s nothing I can do to ‘make it up,’ either. It’s her decision.” He glanced in her direction again. “Apparently, it always was.”

“Whatever. You don’t both have to be so damn stubborn, you know. It’s the holidays.”

Lucifer looked down his nose at Daniel. “I _do not_ need your advice about your _ex_ -wife,” he snapped. “Leave. It. Be.”

“Fine. Bite my head off. Just think about it.”

Lucifer turned on his heel and headed straight for the bar. Patrick poured him a scotch, which he downed quickly.

The problem was all he had been doing for months was _thinking about it_. It was the Detective who was determined to keep things purely professional. Even then, some days she barely exchanged more words with him than were strictly necessary. And his attempts to fill the silence only seemed to make things worse. So he’d stopped.

What did Daniel want him to do? 

He looked around. Chloe had somehow once again made it to the opposite side of the room from him. She looked stressed and unhappy to be here.

Suddenly, Lucifer couldn’t stand watching anymore. He gave Patrick some instructions and left him in charge. When everyone was suitably distracted by the drunken caroling of the day sergeant, the night sergeant, and the swing sergeant (apparently another tradition), he slipped away into his elevator.

* * *

Chloe finished her fourth glass of champagne. She’d talked to half the precinct while trying to screw up the courage to talk to Lucifer.

And she did need to talk to Lucifer. Desperately. She’d avoided it and avoided it and avoided it to the point that Ella and Dan had each separately taken her aside to ask questions she couldn’t answer.

The problem was she had no idea where to begin.

When she thought about him—talking to him or even what she wanted—her mind would skitter away to other things. She was terrified that they wouldn’t be able to move beyond, well, the very big truths. She was also terrified of what might happen if they did. What would it mean, accepting the actual, literal Devil in her life? And what would happen if she couldn’t?

This…avoidance…wasn’t a feeling she’d experienced often: She took pride in making decisions and moving forward. Each passing day made it worse.

She abandoned her fifth glass of champagne, half drunk, on a table. She’d caught herself explaining to the public affairs officer, of all people, about the time a poisoning suspect cooked dinner at her house. And then she’d gushed about her love of the Class of 3001 series and getting to meet the real-life inspirations for Kathleen Pike’s characters to Paolo from Victim Advocacy.

She’d never been the type to get drunk at an office holiday party. But here she was. Buzzed. Edging in on drunk. At her holiday party.

“Chloe!”

It was Ella, who had grabbed Chloe’s hands, startling the crap out of her.

“Hey, easy there, girl,” Ella said giving her a hard look. “You alright?”

“M’fine. I’m fine,” Chloe assured, patting Ella’s hand perhaps a little too carefully. “Er, what’s up?”

Ella gave her another look. “Have you seen Lucifer? I wanted to thank him again for this, but I haven’t seen him for a little while.”

Chloe looked around the room carefully. Nope, no Lucifer. Come to think of it, she _hadn’t_ seen him a while. Apparently, she’d taken too long to answer, because Ella was talking again.

“Hey…hang in there Chloe. Everything is going to be fine. You’ll see.”

And Ella was gone before Chloe could ask her what she meant.

Chloe kept looking around the room, but Lucifer did not reappear. She couldn’t help but worry she was the reason he’d disappeared from the event he was hosting. She’d seen him trying to catch her eye throughout the evening. And she’d avoided him. Like a coward. That wasn’t who she was, was it? She tried to tell herself he’d probably just gone upstairs with someone pretty, ignoring whether the thought made her feel better or worse. Either way, it fit with neither the hour, nor how he had been acting.

“Chlooo-eeee Deck-er.” 

A warm hand landed on her shoulder. It was Officer Park from Patrol.

“I just heard you have the best story about heckling Dan’s standup during a sting?”

 _Oh, no._ She had to leave. Now. She made some excuse about needing to talk to Dan and left Sung-min gaping after her.

“Hey, Dan,” she said, interrupting his conversation with Officer Garcia. Which she immediately regretted. They actually were kind of cute together. “I’m going to grab an Uber home…I just want to make sure you’re still good with having Trixie the whole weekend, yeah?”

Dan gave a ‘one sec’ gesture to Garcia and turned to talk to Chloe. “Of course I am.”

“Good, good. ‘Cause she’s really looking forward to it. Just wanted to check before I head out.”

“You know you make the worst possible wingman, right?”

“Sorry,” she mouthed. And then, just as he was turning back to Garcia, she threw over his shoulder: “You’re a really good dad.”

He looked back at her and made a literal face-palm gesture. 

Right.

She shrugged into her jacket, ready to leave, but somehow found herself staring at the elevator instead. Next thing she knew, she was riding up.

The penthouse was quiet and dark. Perhaps she was wrong and he was somewhere else. She made a circuit of the place: the library, the balcony, and finally the bedroom.

And there he was, lying with his back to her, asleep. The moonlight coming in the windows was bright and limned his form. She gasped, overcome in the immediacy of the present. Her heart did a little flip-flop in her chest.

It was true. She loved him still. 

Maybe that was what she’d been hiding from. It didn’t make any sense. But just now she had no doubt.

She took several steps toward the bed. She noticed his back was smooth, the scars she had once thought so defined him were missing. Almost, she reached to touch his unblemished skin. But she didn’t want to wake him. To break the spell of the moment.

Instead, she toed off her shoes. She quietly, carefully climbed onto the far side of the bed and lay down with her back to him. Close but not quite touching. She lay there, looking toward the windows, listening to the steady in and out of his breathing, until she, too, fell asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah, those office holiday parties...


	5. Jolly Old Saint Satan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trixie and Lucifer have an eventful holiday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I drew the drawing earlier in December and then on Christmas night this silliness got stuck in my head. I’m aware there’s a ‘90s movie with a similar premise--maybe my subconscious remembered it? Fills prompt 'kidfic' for LuciferBingo.

[ ](https://www.flickr.com/photos/167892913@N04/46173859514/)

**Jolly Old Saint Satan**

Lucifer listened to the Detective’s spawn going on about some exchange of crafts with her BFF. He was sitting by Chloe’s desk and had been tasked with entertaining the child after her babysitter, Beth, had dropped her off at the precinct due to a family emergency. Lucifer neither understood why the child had to spend days at her so-called ‘school’ nor why she was not permitted to be there, seemingly randomly.

Her mother was in the conference room making calls. Their latest victim had no ID, but, judging from his clothes, he was working as a Santa. Chloe was pinging various malls and casting agencies in hopes of a lead.

Lucifer watched closely, through the glass, as Chloe ran her hand through her hair in frustration. He was so distracted, in fact, that he missed the spawn pulling the Santa hat they’d found at the crime scene out of an evidence box.

“Hey!” he said just before she put the hat on his head. She was definitely going to mess up his hair, not to mention what the Detective would say about contaminating evidence.

But he was too late, and she’d pulled the hat firmly onto his head.

Lucifer was quite surprised to feel the tingle of magic…something he’d encountered on Earth quite rarely this century. He snatched the hat off. Holding his breath, he waited, looking around to see if something was going to happen. Nothing did. It seemed he’d been in time.

“Grinch,” Trixie complained.

“It’s evidence.”

Trixie’s mouth formed an, ‘oh.’

“Let’s just not tell your mother, shall we?”

* * *

Lucifer hurried into the precinct the next day, having overslept, which was very unlike him. He’d dreamed of sticky small humans asking him for all manner of things. A real nightmare. As he came down the stairs, he was getting more looks than usual. He preened a bit.

“Nice suit,” Officer Martinez commented.

“Yeah, nice suit,” her partner, Officer Liu, agreed.

In Lucifer’s opinion, _all_ of his suits were nice suits. He glanced down to see what he’d thrown on during his rush. And stopped dead.

He was wearing a suit he’d had made for a Lux theme night. It was the same cut he usually wore, but it was made of red velvet and trimmed in delicate white fur. How on Earth had he put that on? But it was Christmas Eve and the officers seemed to love it, so he shrugged. 

It was a slow day. After they finished questioning a trio of mall managers—dead ends, all—it was just more paperwork and phone calls and still no solid ID on their be-santa’d victim. Lucifer was trying to be helpful, getting up to bring the Detective whatever she needed: files, coffee, or evidence from the evidence room. Each time, he grabbed a cookie from the tray someone had brought in. For some reason, he had quite a hankering for them.

Chloe looked up from her file to goggle at him. “Are you drinking… _milk_?”

“Goes with the cookies,” he said, dusting crumbs off his hands.

She shook her head with a smile. “Whatever. Grab me the Glendale Galleria employees list, will you?”

He passed Daniel’s desk on his way to the conference where most of the files were laid out.

“Hey, maybe you need to layoff those holiday cookies, man,” Daniel teased, smacking his belly with a file folder. 

Lucifer narrowed his eyes and was about to retort when he looked down. There was, in fact, a small but distinct bit of belly bulging under his jacket. He gasped, grabbing the nearest file on Daniel’s desk and holding it in front of himself.

Never in his life! He fled the precinct before anyone else could see him like this.

* * *

Lucifer was examining his profile in the mirror in distress when he heard the elevator ding. Grabbing a pillow to hide behind, he rushed back into the other room.

“Child, what are you doing here? Where’s your mother?”

“Beth’s mom had to go to the hospital again and Mom and Dad are at Grandma’s Christmas party. It’s for _adults_.” Her tone said what she thought of that. “Anyway, I told Beth to bring me here. Heyyyyyyy…what’s the ‘evidence’ hat doing there?”

Lucifer looked up and, sure enough, the Santa hat was sitting on the bar.

He put his hands together in prayer-position and yelled, “Hanael!”

Soon enough, there was a rustling on the balcony, and his festive brother walked into the penthouse. Lucifer grabbed the hat and stalked toward him. Before he could utter a word, Hanael doubled over laughing.

“You,” his brother sputtered. “You of all people ended up with…”

“Yes, so I did,” Lucifer growled, tossing aside the pillow. “Millennia! And all you can do is laugh,” Lucifer added bitterly in the face of Hanael’s renewed guffaws. “Fix this!” 

“I can’t until tomorrow,” Hanael said, wiping away tears. “You’re just going to have to do this, and I’ll make sure the hat finds a better home next year.”

“No. I won’t do it.”

“You know the magic won’t let you alone until you do.” Hanael took the hat and reached inside to pull out a very large sack that was spilling over with colorfully-wrapped packages by the time he dropped it to the floor.

Beatrice gasped behind them. Lucifer’d completely forgotten the child was there.

“For real?” she squealed. “Can I help?”

Lucifer frowned at her. She believed he was the Devil, so why not this, too?

Hanael crouched down, pinching her cheek. “I don’t see why not, sweetness.” To his brother, he said: “It’s not so bad. Only for kids whose family can’t, and this hat is only for North America. With your wings, you should be able to get it done in no time.”

“Wings! Now you have to let me help!”

“Look, you _really_ don’t have a choice,” his brother said, setting the hat on Lucifer’s head.

Oh, bloody hell, he was right; Lucifer could feel it. He hated magic.

“Well, spawn, are you up for this?”

She nodded, practically bouncing in her enthusiasm.

“Alright, hold on tight,” he said, picking her up with one arm and the sack with the other before spreading his wings.

* * *

Hours later, when Chloe came to pick up Trixie, she found them both asleep on the couch. She shook her head at the plates of cookies scattered all around the penthouse. And was that a pile of snow melting by the balcony doors?

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
